The Farside of Atmos
by Xephinetsa
Summary: The High Ruler is searching for a champion; a warrior worthy of serving her. So she holds a tournament, that will decide the fate of all that are involved.


"How long have you been growing that moustache?" Sky asked one of the armoured men guarding his cell. As expected, there was no response. He had been attempting to start a conversation for at least half an hour, but the two guards were as unyielding as the barred door, sizzling with sparking green energy; the only thing standing between him, and freedom. Despite being trapped, Sky was not content with sitting still, the complete opposite of his cellmate who hadn't said a word or moved once since he had become conscious. Sky glanced over at him, just to make sure that hadn't changed. No movement whatsoever. Frankly, he wasn't surprised at all. He returned his attention to the task at hand; creating a reputation for himself among the guards. He had to make them think all he did was talk, to give his newly formed plan a better chance of success. Already, the gears in his head were turning; the less time he spent in a prison cell, the better. He was going to escape.

An hour and a half later, the guards we relieved of their station and replaced by two more. Sky didn't waste any time in starting a conversation. "So, I was talking to the other guys, and they just ignored me. I hope you two will be a little more accommodating. They were good listeners, though," he paused and looked thoughtful. "At least… I _think_ they were listening. Wait, now that I think about it, they were ignoring me! Oh, I feel so hurt! And here I thought we had a connection…" he sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. The guards did not respond. He took a deep breath and let it out, pretending to regain his composure. "After some careful consideration, I've decided to put the past behind me and start anew. Surely you guys won't ignore me, right?"

As the day drew to a close and the night crept closer, Sky began to feel tired. He'd been talking practically non-stop all day; now all he wanted to do was rest. As he started to drift off, a brilliant flash of light appeared directly in the middle of the cell, almost blinding him though his eyes were closed. He sat bolt upright in bed and stared at the strangely familiar light. Why was it familiar? Frowning, he tried to reach back into his memories to find an answer, but was interrupted by a loud humming sound emanating from the ever-growing light. "Welcome, warriors…" it said in a cold, whispery voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  
_Wait a second! Is the light… talking?_  
"As you may have noticed, you are all my prisoners. But fear not, I am not about to let you rot away in your cells. Where's the fun in that?"  
_Yep, it's definitely talking. Maybe I'm going crazy. _  
"You see, I am in need of some elite fighters, and so I've decided to hold a tournament."  
By the sound of it, the voiced belonged to a woman, but there was no further indication to affirm the gender. "A tournament where all of you have the honour of participating," she continued. "Prove to me how cunning you are, how strong you can be. Impress me; show me that you are worthy. Only then will you have a chance at staying alive."  
_Go easy on the ale next time, Sky. You're hallucinating. _  
"The last one standing will be greatly rewarded. But first, all of you must find a way to escape your prison cells. Failure to do so will lead to immediate disqualification... and dire consequences. Resisting to participate will lead you down the same painful path. In the end, my little pets, the choice is yours."  
With that, the light faded, leaving him in darkness once more.

Sky woke up to the sound of raised voices. He couldn't even remember falling asleep. How long had he been out? There was no time to dwell on that, he had to get moving. And fast.  
Quickly, he pulled the soles of his boots off and set them aside on the bed. A satisfied smile played on his lips; no one ever thought to look there. He picked out the needles resting in the special indents designed specifically so they didn't interfere with the boot. He then replaced the soles and pulled out another string of needles hidden in the waistband of his pants. He now had a total of sixteen needles. The top band of his boot came away to reveal a metal strip hinged to four half circles; one for each finger. He pulled it out and slipped his fingers through the holes, then bent the strip under his hand, clipping it on the other side. The metal was flexible, so it rested quite comfortably on his palm. He did the same with his other hand and then proceeded to refix the bands onto his boots.  
He picked up eight of the sixteen needles and slotted them easily into the rings on each hand. When he clenched his fist, the needles looked as if they grew from his knuckles. The voices grew louder and he could hear the sound of approaching footsteps.  
Time was running out.  
He attached the remaining eight needles to the toes of his boots and jumped to his feet. He turned to his cellmate, who still hadn't moved. He wasn't sure if he was asleep or not, but either way, it didn't matter. "Okay," he said. "When the guards ask where I am, just sit there and do nothing. You seem to be good at that."  
Nothing in response. Not even a nod. Sky shrugged. "Works for me." He turned again to face the wall beside the barred door and took a running jump. The needles stabbed into the wall and held him steady. "Left hand, right foot. Right hand, left foot. Keep to the rhythm." He began his ascent.  
Hand, then foot; over and over until he reached the ceiling. The rhythm changed.  
Feet across, hands across.  
He reached the space above the door and twisted his body around, making sure there was always a hand and a foot attached to the wall. Now his back lay across the gap where the wall met the roof and his feet were planted firmly above the door. He was stretched out like a spider, ready to attack. He could hear the guards clearly now, they were complaining about guarding him. He stifled a laugh when he realised they were the original guards that he had harassed.  
"Does the High Ruler hate us, or something? Why did she stick us with guarding the prisoners on Cell Block A again? I don't mind the quiet one, but man the guy with the blue hair is annoying!"  
"It's not wise to question the Great One. She sees all. We'll just have to make the best of it. At least we don't have cleaning duty!"  
"You're always so damn optimistic. Hey, did you know that I actually thought the blue-haired guy was a girl at first?" he laughed.  
"Ha! Me too! He really needs to get his hair cut, or something. And he dresses funny, too."  
"Probably because he's from beyond the barrier cliffs. You know… from _Atmos_."  
"Do you think they all wear stripy pyjama pants over there?"  
Sky bit back a sarcastic comment about their moustaches and how it looked as if someone had shoved a broom up their noses and left it there. It took a significant amount of self-control to stop himself from giving them a piece of his mind. A few silent minutes passed until it dawned on two guards; the "annoying prisoner" wasn't so annoying anymore. It struck them as odd that he hadn't said a word since they'd arrived. All of the guards that had been assigned to Cell Block A had complained about his tendency to ramble on and on without stopping, them included. "Hey, you. Quiet boy. Where's your friend?"  
Nothing. No movement whatsoever.  
He let out a frustrated sigh and inserted a crystal key into a panel beside the door. The green energy immediately dissolved and the bars slid aside, disappearing into the wall. He motioned to his partner to stay on his guard and stepped cautiously into the cell, weapon ready. Sky couldn't help but smile. They had fallen right into his trap. The two guards scanned the small room, their eyes darting from left to right, but not once did they look up. Without warning, Sky dropped down onto the guard directly beneath him, knocking him to the floor. Before he could react, the second guard received a hard kick from behind, sending him toppling forward. Quick as a flash, his assailant shot his foot out to trip him before he managed to regain his balance. Sky was up on his feet again and he grabbed the discarded staff weapon from where it lay, using it to strike the tripped man, successfully rending him unconscious. "Why is it that no one ever looks up?" he asked, more to himself than anyone in particular. It was then that he realised he was not responsible for tripping the guard. He raised his head to see his cellmate in a fighting stance; his eyes fixed on the unconscious men. "So you can move after all. I was beginning to think that you were paralysed, or something." When he received no response, he continued. "Nice footwork back there. You got a name?"  
"Finch."  
Sky was taken aback by how young he sounded, and by the fact that it was the first time he'd said anything since they'd arrived. "And I'm usually not that quick," he added. "Most of the time my coordination is lacking."  
"Is that so?" Sky rubbed his chin thoughtfully. One of the guards groaned, reminding him that it was time to leave. He picked up the other staff and threw it to Finch, then plucked the crystal key from the guard's hand. He then stepped over the bodies and out of the cell. Finch followed close behind. "Let's see how they like being locked up," Sky muttered. He used the crystal to bring back the bars and the sizzling green energy that surrounded them. He stowed it away in a pocket inside of his jacket, then turned to look at his companion. His fringe that swept across his face was black, while the rest of his hair was the colour of golden yellow with a hint of brown. Sky frowned slightly as he noticed Finch's oddly coloured eyes. The right was blue, and the left was brown. In all his years of travelling, he'd never encountered someone with different coloured eyes before. Finch noticed his gaze and cast his eyes downwards, afraid that Sky would judge him. "You can't be much older than sixteen…" he breathed. "What could possibly bring you to this dark and dismal place?"  
Finch hesitated, unsure if he should answer. "I… got into a fight with some of the High Ruler's soldiers. They were impressed with my fighting skills and so they brought me here," he paused and fiddled with the red bandana he wore around his neck. "You're not from here, are you? I heard the guards say you're from Atmos. I never thought anyone lived there."  
"I never thought anyone lived here, so… I guess we're both in the dark."  
"How did you get here?"  
Sky really wasn't in the mood for standing around and chatting, but the boy had answered his question, so he thought he might as well answer his in return. "I don't know, exactly. I was having a drink with a friend of mine at one of the local taverns on Terra Atmosia, then there was some weird flash of light and I woke up here." Sky could almost picture the horrified expression that would have taken the place of Kaeryn's broad smile as he was beamed away. _He probably fell off his chair in shock _Sky thought chuckling to himself. Silence grew between them, until Sky decided it was time to go. "Well! It's been fun talking to you, but I'd best be off." He gave Finch a mock salute and headed off down the dimly lit corridor. "Wait!" he called out. Sky slid to a halt and turned slowly.  
"What?"  
"Wouldn't it be beneficial for the both of us if we… worked as a team?"  
"I work alone."  
"So do I, but…"  
"But what?"  
"There's no knowing how many more guards there are. Don't you want someone to watch your back?"  
"Hmm… no. Thanks, but no thanks! Bye!" With that, he ran off, disappearing around a corner. Finch took one last look at the prison cell, then set off at a run behind him.

"Escaped prisoner!" two soldiers shouted simultaneously. Sky immediately leapt into action, ramming his stolen staff weapon into the guard's stomach and delivering blow after blow to his knees, arms and neck. He crumpled to the floor, and Sky turned his attention to the second guard. Their staffs clashed loudly, sending echoes flying off the walls. His opponent managed to tip him off balance, and in that instant, knock the weapon from his hands. Sky turned his fall into a forward roll in the last second and was back on his feet again. He clenched his fists and jumped at the guard, scratching the armour with his needles, though dealing no damage to the wearer. He dodged the clumsy swings of the staff and aimed for the unprotected neck, slashing through the thin material and slitting his throat. He died instantly. As the body fell backwards, Sky launched off the chest plate, performing a back flip and landing steadily on his feet. He wiped the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead and knelt down beside the corpse to search for a map of the facility. His search came up fruitless, and he sighed, disappointed. "Looks like I'll have to act on instinct." He collected another staff weapon and continued on his way.

After wandering the halls aimlessly for some time, he finally arrived at a door marked ARMOURY. He tried to use the crystal key to unlock the door but it didn't work. "Damn it." He took a step back and shot the lock with the staff, causing it to malfunction and open the door. The sound of hurried footsteps behind him instantly put him on guard. He swung around; expecting to see more guards, but instead was greeted by the sight of Finch running towards him. "Oh, it's just you."  
"I see you managed to find the armoury," he pointed out.  
"Thanks for that. I didn't notice," Sky replied sarcastically. Finch merely shrugged and pushed past him. Sky threw the staff aside and began to search for his belongings.  
Sky kissed his sword affectionately and strapped it to his back. Finch rolled his eyes. Now armed and dangerous, the two former prisoners believed they were ready for anything the High Ruler could throw at them.  
But their challenges had only just begun.


End file.
